


Oh, How I Wish I Was Strong Enough

by Very_Anxious_Bean



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Crying, Death, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Morality | Patton Sanders, Hurt No Comfort, Insecure Morality | Patton Sanders, Medicinal Drug Use, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, Scars, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Suicide, Swearing, kinda graphic, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 20:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Very_Anxious_Bean/pseuds/Very_Anxious_Bean
Summary: Wishes don't often come true and Patton crumbles.





	Oh, How I Wish I Was Strong Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all better read the tags.

Patton hated it. He _hated_ it. 

He hated how he couldn't be a good person, he hated how he couldn't be there for his kiddos; he hated that he's worthless and can't do _shit_. 

He always had to lean on the others or on goddamn _drugs_ to handle his depression. It was weak and pathetic and he _loathed_ it. 

What he hated the most? 

His fucking life. That's what he hated the most. 

So the answer to a hated life is to just fucking end it, right? 

Yeah. Pretty easy, isn't it? 

Patton shut the bathroom door calmly and locked it, leaning against the cool wood. He looked at his reflection blankly before opening a side mirror, the one on a small cabinet that opens like a door. 

Luckily, no one was at his apartment. No one's here to stop him or make it difficult. 

Patton knows what people would say. They would act like it was the end of the world and then move on in a month at most. 

Everyone's better off without him. 

Patton pulled out the bottle, still mostly full of his anti-depressants. He set it down, closing the mirror cabinet and crouching down. Opening the cabinet under the sink, he pulled out a small sharp razor. 

Logan won't be held back by Patton anymore. He could do whatever he wished when he doesn't have to worry about the medicine or how the depression was. 

Patton held the razor against his wrist and pressed down. He watched as blood started flowing down his wrist and he pressed deeper, not fazed by the barely-there pain.

Virgil won't have to worry about him anymore. He doesn't have to spend all night with him or calling him, getting less sleep than he already gets. 

Patton moved over to the other wrist, pressing in deeply and slicing the vein over and over again. 

Roman won't have to feel the guilt of just being himself. He can be as extra as he wants since Patton won't be there to repress him at times. 

Patton grit his teeth and cut over some old scars. After switching back to the first arm, he paused. 

Blood was pouring from the multiple cuts, dark red drops landing on the pale blue tiles below him. It was a lot of blood. 

Patton shoved most of his pills in his mouth, filling the bottle with water and drinking it to swallow the pills. There must have been at least twenty. 

No one's going to miss him. 

Patton was just someone holding back his friends. He hurt them. 

Patton slid down the wall to the floor. 

He was so weak. He couldn't deal with his life, so he took the easy way out. He's selfish, too.

So selfish that he's going to do something for himself rather than help someone else. 

He could've helped Virgil with his anxiety, or Roman with his self confidence. Hell, Logan needs help with his emotions. 

Patton's an empath, he could've been useful for one person. He's also got a whole list of things his friends are, highlighting the amazing things about them. Two people. 

He could've gotten Virgil some therapy for his anxiety. That's a third person. 

Patton watched blood drip down, a small pool now forming around him. He laughed bitterly. 

_"Hey Pat, it's Virgil. You haven't been online or anything for a while, I just want to check up on you. Are you okay? I mean- I know you... Um, just call me as soon as you can, okay? I love you."_

_ "Padre! It's Roman, obviously." A dry chuckle, "You haven't talked to anyone for a few days so the family's coming over. We're worried... Love you, Pops."_

_ "Hello, Patton. As you can tell, it's Logan. I'm sure you've gotten similar calls from the other two but we're coming to your place to check on you. You haven't talked to anyone- we asked everyone- and it's been too long to be offline. We'll see you soon."_

Virgil chewed the inside of his cheek as the three men waited for Patton to answer the door. When five minutes passed, Roman unlocked the door with a spare key that he miraculously remembered to bring. 

The three entered the apartment, closing the door behind them. It had a strange scent in the air. 

"Patt?" Virgil called out. 

The three looked around the apartment. 

Logan was in the bedroom when there was a wail from Roman. He immediately followed the sound, finding Roman in the bathroom doorway, clutching his shirt and covering his mouth. 

Virgil screamed when he was able to see over Roman's shoulder, stumbling back. "Oh- oh my god!" 

Logan moved Roman out the way and froze. 

Patton was on the floor, leaning against the wall. His eyes were shut and his chest wasn't moving. 

A pool of dried blood surrounded Patton, dried blood trailed down his arms. 

Logan crouched in the blood, raising a shaky hand to check for a pulse. 

Patton was cold and had no heartbeat. 

Roman sobbed, shaking, as Virgil called the police. 

Logan pinched himself harshly, praying he was only dreaming a cruel possibility. He didn't jerk awake in his bed or anything similar, he was still crouching by Patton. 

He kept praying for Patton to get a pulse, but he never felt one again. 

Roman sobbed harder later, the day turning into night. He let Virgil hug him, thankful to have somebody to cry on. 

Virgil blinked away tears, focusing on Roman. He let Roman muffle his wails in his shoulder. 

Logan went to his room and wrecked everything that wasn't valuable. He saw a picture of the four of them, every person grinning. 

Logan picked up the thing closest to him (a glass that was empty now) and threw it against the wall, letting it break into several small pieces. The action was childish but he didn't care right now. 

Everything felt a bit colder than usual.


End file.
